The Bean Bag Chair

Monday, August 20, 2012

love is watching...

One of my grandmother's favourite stories to tell me was of a stormy night in September.
It was the earliest I'd been for anything -
two weeks too early -
and she found herself
in the wee hours of the morning
in a gown,
in a delivery room
the day I entered the world.

Today I sat beside her bed
holding her hand in mine,
singing the words to an old hymn
as I received the parting privilege
of watching her exit that world.

I was reminded of a lyric to a song"...love is watching someone die..."

I cannot even begin to tell you
how difficult it is
to sit beside someone you love
and watch them struggle with every breath.
To observe their mortality
knowing you are unable
to reverse the cycle
or ease the journey.

And yet love sits.
Watching.
Waiting.
Amidst the suffering.
Inconvenienced.
Uncomfortable.
Comforting
while quietly grieving.
Because love
is not afraid of death.

I hold dear
the gift of the last nine days
fresh with memories...
reading short stories,
scripture,
singing,
praying,
dutch cheese,
cactus fields,
cologne,
armchair naps,
that last game of scrabble...

It will be a while
before her warmth
fades from the memory of my fingers,
and her laboured breath
falls silent in my thoughts...

but what I will hold forever
is that final moment
where I felt God compel me
to sing over my Beppe
that it was well with her soul.
To watch her,
in the final phrase of the song,
turn her eyes heavenward
and be face to face with eternity.
To see her earthly body
finally find peace
in a slow exhale...
it's battle over.
The race, won.

And, Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight, the clouds be rolled back as a scroll; the trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend, even so, it is well with my soul.

(sidebar - the proper location for water wings is on the arms, not the ankles, as properly demonstrated below...)

But what does my dream mean?

Through hours of pondering it, today I asked God His thoughts.

In His grace, He walked me through my dream...

So often we stand at the pools of our own strengths.

We dive in, expecting them to keep us afloat...

and yet they become the very things that suffocate us.

We often like to dive deep into our personal will-power

so that we don't have to rely on the help of others...

and yet we can find ourselves hidden behind our very defense mechanisms,

our vulnerability lost to the mask of strength

at the bottom of our self-made pools,

alone and unable to help ourselves.

As loved ones, we fall victim to fixing our eyes to only see the surface.

In one's reflection of external strength,

we can often overlook the desperate view of internal weakness and struggle.

Our conversations become casual,

non-evasive,

and we can miss the cry for help

that lies muffled below the surface.

And in a humbling moment,

God reminded me of my response.

I can do this.

If I can make it to the ladder

I'll be ok...

I chose to focus on myself.

I didn't ask for help.

Despite the desperation of the situation,

I relied on my own strength to get me to the ladder,

and it didn't work.

Not only had I robbed myself of the help of others,

I had denied the One who is my EVER PRESENT HELP...

And with all these ponderings,

God reminded me of a psalm I memorized

to a funny, obscure little tune when I was younger...

The eyes of the Lord watch over those who do right;
His ears are open to their cries for help.
The Lord hears His people when they call to Him for help.
He rescues them from all their troubles.
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted;
He rescues those whose spirits are crushed.
Psalm 34:15,17,18

Saturday, February 25, 2012

where is God?

This question stirs such controversybetween the natural and the spiritual realmsand spirals thoughtsand faithand belief.

How can I believe in a God who allows horror and injustice to transpire in my life?My world?

The irony of these wordsis that they spill from the mouths of thosewho advocate for free will.The freedom to make our own choicesand control our destinies.For in forming these questions,are we not backtrackingon our human desireto be independent?To cut the puppet strings?To be free?

How is it that the freedom of choiceis a matter of personal convenience?Yet when the impact of choicepenetrates the depths of our thought and soul,our first glance casts blame at the heavens?Looking for a cosmic correctionwhen the consequences of our choicesripple with devastating affectthrough our livesand the lives of others?

In one breath we mock the ideaof a god that micro-manages the course of humanity,and with the next breathwe demand a higher powerto mediate the moral compass of choicebetween the dictator,murderer,pedophile, drunk driver,thief,cheat,as if certain decisionsor decision makerswarrant heavenly intervention.

Whenever I hear the question"Where is God?How could He allow this to happen..."

to the orphan?to the widow?to the hungry?to the exploited?to the oppressed?to the broken?to good people?

Sunday, February 05, 2012

oh my soul...

Ever have one of those dayswhere the weight of the worldseems to settlein layers of silty indignationin the depths of your heart?Where even the sun,awakening the world to spring,cannot coax a soul into it's warmth?

The papers have been servedthat will splinter my familyofficially.Legally.Permanently.

Wednesday, February 01, 2012

linger

Ever feel eaten alive by the rat race?Consumed by the fast pace of schedules and commitments?Our culture has been switched into fast forwardand it's all we can do to hold on.

We fast track school.Food.Correspondance.Dating.Research.Information.Friends.Everything is at the touch of our fingers.Portable.Accelerated.Efficient.

And the irony is that despite all the time we save,we have no time...

The downfall of the convenience of expediacy is

we

no longer

know

how

to

wait.

In life.In lines.With our plans.With people.Relationships.It's now or never.And if it doesn't come in 5 minutes or lesswe fidget.We sigh.We leave.

There is a beautythat can only be foundwhen you linger.When you choose to shut out everythingand stopin a moment.In space.In time.When you allow somethingthe time to develop.

Linger.This was the word that camein a moment of reflecting on God.With God.It came inconveniently,in the pull of all I needed to accomplishwith the limits of time.Isn't that always the case?The wrestling of investing our timein what we will loseover what is eternally ours?The temptation of unbalancing our prioritiesin the favour of our "To Do" lists?

Linger.It's invitation came quietly...

Don't rush to your schedule.Don't rush through this song.Linger.Choose Meover all you have to doand all that overwhelms...Your responsibilities.Other's expectations.Your meager efforts to try and hold things together.

Let Me meet you here.Give Me time.Time to heal.Time to comfort.Time to speak.Time to move.Time with you.

Good things come to those who wait.Wait for Me.Wait with Me.Wait to see the plans and purposes I have for youunfold.My gifts come wrapped...

Linger.Do not rush from My presence.Allow it to work it's course in your spirit.To renew.Rebuild.Restore.To accomplish the infinitely morethat you hope for.Be changed in it.Be changed by it.

I will not beg.I will not force.The invitation is open.The choice is yours.